


you're still my once upon a time

by shewasintrepid



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 16:03:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5831854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewasintrepid/pseuds/shewasintrepid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 2x09 (Chapter Thirty-One). Semi canon compliant. Michael makes the mistake of logging on to Facebook past midnight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're still my once upon a time

He doesn't notice it right away, the single decrease in friends on his Facebook page. After all, with not one but two ongoing investigations concerning the biggest and notorious crime lords that Miami has seen in decades, he simply doesn't have the time to be constantly checking up on social media. That, and, Michael has been pretty successful with being happy, using whatever free time that he does have to simply enjoy Natalie, his new girlfriend, that he rarely thinks to update any of his pages. (Natalie is the one who keeps everyone updated on them anyway; adoring statuses, couple photos on Instagram, and everything else that comes along with the euphoria of a new relationship.)

And then, for whatever reason, he decides to log back on. At two thirty in the morning.

It's only a few moments after finally updating his relationship status that he realizes what a mistake that was. 

He's checking his notifications and notices that a 'friend' of his--Luca, who he met through Jane, his ex-girlfriend slash fiancee slash love of his life--has commented on a photo he was tagged in. Because it's two thirty in the morning and there is literally nothing else better to do, he thinks nothing of it when he clicks to see what Luca had to say.

Oh. 

He's on Jane, his ex-girlfriend slash fiancee slash love of his life's page, and he can't read the comment at all. What he can beneath the smiling photo of Jane and Mateo in red and pink sweaters, is a message that makes him recoil in a very physical sort of way: "DO YOU KNOW JANE? If you know Jane, send her a message." 

Well, he did tell her that he wanted her to be happy. And the first step of Jane finding her happiness, Michael tells himself, trying to stamp out that stabbing feeling in his chest that he thought had healed over a very dull sting, is to let him go.

Even though it's been a little over three weeks since he's seen Jane to tell her to do just that, eight months since he's held her in any sort of way, and just as long as he's had any hope of being a part of her life, this makes everything feel more real. 

Facebook was his last connection to Jane. Where he could check up on her without directly checking up on her. Not that Michael's done that in ages. He made a conscious effort to stop doing that when he and Natalie started going steady.

When Michael looks back on what happens next, he will blame his actions on the fact that it was two thirty two in the morning. Really, it's because beneath that five pointed star on his badge and all the bravery that's supposed to go along with it, going past the fact that Natalie was all sorts of amazing and he really was happy with her, Michael Cordero was kind of a glutton for punishment. 

So against his better judgement, he started scrolling through the Facebook posts of Jane's that he can see.

On December 20th, 2015 she changed her cover photo to the wooden tree topper that he'd recovered just in time for the annual Villanueva Tree Decorating party. 

On November 1st, 2015 there is a photo of her sitting in an overstuffed armchair and she's wearing a pensive expression on her face. She has a pen and a pad of paper in her hand and it looks as though she's in a cabin of some sort.

Just a few days before her profile picture is of Mateo, and he looks positively adorable in his little bumblebee costume. He's on the floor, surrounded by a small pile of chocolates that will be guzzled up by the very woman who took the photo. It's February now and he looks tiny compared to Jane's current profile picture (uploaded at four fifteen in the afternoon, according to its time stamp).

Michael continues to ignore the rational part of his brain that's screaming at him to stop. His insides go very cold whenever Rafael shows up in any of these photos but sometimes they twist and knot when Rogelio or Xiomara or Alba make their appearances. 

Further down, further down he goes and the pain starts to settle in a very comfortable, almost welcome sort of way.

Though the background and the cast of characters in her profile pictures change, Jane is lovely and her smile glowing in every single one of them. Just as he remembered.

It's quarter past three when he's looking at posts from 2013. His eyes are red and his right hand has gone numb, but that doesn't matter at all. 

The photo he's looking at now is of two hands intertwined. His and Jane's. Going back this far, this isn't the first photo that he's been featured in but it is the one that he lingers on the most. Every other photo that she's uploaded has rambling captions, going into detail of where she was and who she was with, the conditions said photo were taken under, and how she felt about said photo now, etc. 

No, the caption on this particular photo is simple and to the point: "I love you." 

And of all the photos she's posted, this was the one she kept as her default for the longest.

Jane had always been sweet like that.

Then his gaze flickers back to the top of the page, where the 'Add Friend' icon rests unassumingly below a blue and white search bar. He blinks, surprised when his eyes are wet with tears. If he checked the clock, he'd see that the time was three eighteen but his heart has sunk so far below his stomach that he can't blame the hour without feeling like he's lying to himself somehow.

So instead he clicks out of Facebook and slowly closes his laptop shut, letting out a long, ragged sort of sigh.

"I should go to bed," he says to no one in particular. 

And so he does. His phone on the charger on the opposite side of the room so he isn't tempted to log on through his phone and repeat the whole process over again. 

This is exactly why they have to let each other go, he tells himself as he settles uncomfortably into his sheets. It isn't healthy for either one of them to linger when Fate has so clearly conspired against them being together. 

Tonight, well, this morning was just a fluke. He's perfectly happy now. And she will be too in due time.

Or, at least, that's how he's able to quiet his mind enough to slip into a very uneasy sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> A bit melodramatic of Michael, perhaps? I dunno. I've seen people react pretty strongly to this sort of stuff.
> 
> A special thanks to Gina Rodriguez and Brett Dier, who both liked my #Cordenueva tweets. And to my lovely friend, the most adorable pug in the world, for being in this lovely little dinghy with me. I think this ship is too big to call a paddle boat by, like, a quarter of an inch. 
> 
> My Tumblr is theromanticheroine. Apologies for any typos or errors. I'll fix that...eventually.


End file.
